Murmurs ripple through the gathering, and I don’t find myself surprised that Sebastian would try to pull something like this.He’s always enjoyed lighting fires just to watch the flames, even back when we sailed together long ago.
I should speak, defend myself against his accusations, but what could I say? That I’ve been secretly living in their waters? That I’ve been intimately involved with their lighthouse keeper? Every truth I might offer only feeds his narrative of infiltration and deception.
“He saved those men,” Ashe counters, stepping closer to me. “You saw him bring them to safety.”
“A convenient show,” Sebastian retorts. “After his friend attacked in the first place!”
“That kraken was confused, not aggressive,” I finally say, my voice carrying across the now-silent beach. “She believed she was rescuing one of her own kind from hunters.”
Sebastian’s smile turns sharp. “And how would you know that unless you communicated with it? Unless you were both working together?”
I struggle to find words that might bridge the gap between species, to explain the complexity of what happened beneath the waves without confirming his accusations of collusion. But my injury is making thought increasingly difficult.
“The only monster here is the one who orchestrated this attack!”
The voice that cuts through the tension is familiar—painfully so. It’s been long since I heard it, yet I would recognize it anywhere.
Iris pushes through the crowd, her small frame somehow commanding immediate attention. As she reaches the front, she unfurls her wings—translucent, iridescent membranes that catch the light in rainbow patterns. Most fairies keep their wings bound in public, the exposure an intimate gesture rarely shared outside close relationships.
Her eyes meet mine briefly, a small smile flickering across her face before she turns her full attention to Sebastian. Despite the years between us, I recognize her expression—the particular set of her jaw that appears when she’s prepared to fight.
“Sebastian Walsh isn’t concerned about monster-human relations,” she announces. “He’s a selkie who’s spent years attempting to create friction between species. Why? Because a human woman once broke his heart, and he’s never recovered.”
Sebastian’s face contorts with rage. “You know nothing—”
“I know you guided that juvenile kraken to these waters last night,” Iris continues, her wings fluttering with indignation. “I saw you in your seal form, though at the time I didn’t know exactly what you were up to.”
She sneers and scoffs in disgust. “I can’t believe you. You deliberately placed a confused, frightened creature in the path of that reenactment, knowing exactly how she would interpret the scene.”
The crowd’s attention pivots to Sebastian, whose composure has completely fractured. His eyes dart from face to face, finding no allies.
“You would take the word of these creatures over mine?” he snarls, backing away. “I’ve protected this town’s heritage, preserved its history—”
“You’ve manipulated its fear,” Marina interjects calmly. “And nearly got our people killed doing it.”
Several burly fishermen begin moving toward Sebastian with determined expressions. He assesses the shifting mood rapidly, then turns and sprints down the beach.
Before anyone can follow, he dives into the water where—I know from experience—he’ll transform and disappear into the currents, far faster in his seal form than any human pursuers.
I watch him go, a complicated mixture of vindication and concern swirling through my mind. Sebastian was once my friend, when we both lived as disguised men. His bitterness had festered decades longer than I realized.
Iris approaches me, her wings still proudly displayed. “You look terrible, Captain,” she says softly, using my old title with fond familiarity.
“Merely… tired,” I manage, though the effort of remaining upright grows increasingly difficult. The water around my lowertentacles has taken on a concerning tint—my blood, diluting in the shallows.
Ashe steps closer, her face pale with worry. “Roark?”
I attempt to reassure her, but the words never form. Instead, darkness sweeps across my vision, and I feel myself listing sideways. The last sensation I register is Ashe’s hands trying to catch what cannot be caught as my massive form collapses into the shallow water.
Chapter 20
Shifting Tides
Ashe
I wake to the sound of the lighthouse windows rattling against a gentle morning breeze. For a moment, I’m disoriented, my neck stiff from falling asleep in the armchair I’d dragged next to my bed. Then I remember why.
Roark lies on my bed, his massive form taking up every inch of the mattress. Dr. Rivera had insisted on treating him here rather than attempting to move him again after we’d managed to get him to the lighthouse yesterday. His breathing is steady now, though his skin lacks its usual glow.
